DOLARNYS PRIMROSE.  
Or The first part of the passionate Hermit: wherein is expressed the lively passions of Zeal and Love, with an alluding discourse to Valour's ghost. Both pleasant and profitable, if judiciously read, and rightly understood.  
Non est Beatus esse qui se nescit.  
WRITTEN BY A PRACTITIONER in Poesy, and a stranger amongst Poets, which causeth him dread this sentence: Nihil ad Parmenonis suem.  
AT LONDON Printed by G. Elder, and are to be sold by Robert Boulton, at his shop in Smithfield, near long lane end. 1606.   

To the right Honourable, Esme Stewart, Lord of Aubignuy, and one of the Gentlemen of his majesties bedchamber; ennobled with the rarest gifts that honour may afford, or virtue challenge: john Raynolds, wisheth happy increase of all noble and renowned resolutions.  
SVmmoning my senses together (Right honourable) and weighing your Lordship's worth, and my imperfections: Despair had almost checked my too too presumptuous forwardness, only for intending to present this simple work into the hands of so noble a person: But Hope (chief mistress of Desire, and enemy to Fear) began to animate my trembling thoughts with these persuasions.  
Virgil, whose curious inventions have made his name immortal, (though not for imitation, yet for pleasure) read Ennius' rough Poesies: the Delphian Oracle gave Socrates as good a sentence for his well meaning mite, as to the proudest Athenians, for their heaps of treasure. All that was pleaded before the Roman Senators, was not uttered by Tully, yet was it heard and allowed with plausible censures. Xerxes' accepted as well of the poor man's handful of water, as of the rich man's Goblet of gold.  
Thus beholding right Honourable (as in a mirror) the estates or proceedings of passed times, and having in homely manner penned these few unpolished lines, I presumed to present them into your Lo●…dships hands: which although they are not stretched to the delicate treble key of such refined Poems, as Maro 〈◊〉 the ●…ares of 〈◊〉, yet they may be 〈◊〉 called, the fr●…its of as well intended thoughts. For 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 with his (self conceited sharp) 〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ ●…ith his ●…pproued skill. Every painter can●… 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, with Parrh●…sius, nor proportion the 〈◊〉, with 〈◊〉. maia's son refused not to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, fair I●…e was content with philemon's 〈◊〉. Although for'rs For●…una gave Ulysses, the sentenc●… for his curious smothenesse, yet Ajax had an applawdi●… for his rough plainness: & as no counsel could revoke. Fabius ●…ut Terenti●… 〈◊〉, nor no surgeon cure Hipolite but E●…ulapius, so no sun can beautify these deformed lines, but the glimpses of your Lordship's favour, nor no salve be able to set these mangled strains a foot, unless it be ministered by your noble protecting hand. I seek not Ascanius rich cloak for bravery, but covet with Damidas Parrot, to be sheltered from the vulture's tyranny.  
Then Right honourable, if it will please your Lordship to harbour this handful of harsh sounding syllables under the safe conduct of your honours fair protection, I shall not only think them sufficiently guarded from envious tongues: but also esteem myself happy, to have them shadowed under the wings of so worthy a Maecenas. Thus hoping (though not for the worth of the present, yet for the true heart of the giver of) your honours gentle patronage, & resting in that hope I wish your honour the happy enjoying of your honourable wishes.  
Your Lordships in all duty to be commanded. I. R.   

To the Right Honourable Lord, Aubignuy, health eternal.  

WHat near seen gem, shall I devise to set,  
Upon your helm, your temples to ingert▪  
What trophy rare, what wreath or Coronet,  
Can guerdonize, your meriting deseit?   

O let me polish, some near written line,  
To fit your worth, for worldlings to peruse:  
And place it in, that lofty crest of thine,  
Whose silver showers, nourisheth my muse.   

Making them spring, as flowers from frosty earth,  
With April dews, the world's broad eye to view:  
Which else had died, and near obtained birth,  
Had they not gained, encouragement of you.   

Base are the thoughts, that longs to write and dare not▪  
Then if you smile, let others frown, (I care not.)   
Your Lordships ever humbly devoted: john Raynolds.   

To the Gentle Readers whatsoever.  

WHat should I scrape, or beg, at pardons gate,  
With prostrate terms, to help my stranger rhymes:  
When as I know, that in this wavering state,  
None well can please, these fickle envious times.   

Therefore I crave, no other boon but this,  
Upon my lines, let every fancy deem.  
What please them best: well, mean, or flat amiss,  
No whit the worse, I will of them esteem.   

For envious curs, will bawl at strangers true,  
When neighbour thieves, unseen may filch & steal:  
But trusty mastiffs, or by scent or view,  
The privy drifts, of both will soon reveal.   

Then if the learned, seek not to despite me,  
Let Envy bark, I know he cannot bite me.   
Yours, I. R.   

In laudem Authoris.  

T●…ough carping spite, should sit in Momus chair▪  
And Zoilus fume, gnashing his venom laws:  
Though Crittick Satyrs, rave and rend their hair,  
And ●…nuy threat me, with his 〈◊〉 paws.   

Yet this my pen, for Raynolds sake shall write,  
Whose novel lines, unfolds a fer●…ill spring:  
Re●…eales at large, sound love in zealous plight,  
Enchased with woe, and warl●…ke sonneting.   

Delighfull Poems, joined with pleasant good,  
And harmless pleasure, mixed w●…th lofty strains:  
Then ●…oule Thersites, cease thy railing mood,  
And give at least, good words for so much pains.   

But i●… abroad, thy envy needs ●…ust fly,  
Despite not him, who seeks to pleasure thee.   
Abraham Savere Gentleman.   

DOLARNYS Primrose.  

WHen flowering May, had with her morning dews,  
Watered the meadows, and the valleys green,  
The tender Lambs, with nimble-footed Ewes,  
Came forth to meet, the wanton summers Queen:  
The lively Kids, came with the little Fawns,  
Tripping with speed, over the pleasant lawns.   

To hear how that, dame Nature's newcome broods,  
Began to set, their sweet melodious notes,  
With sugared tunes, amidst the levy woods,  
Enchanting music, through their pretty throats:  
By whose sweet strains, right well it might appear,  
The pride of Summer, to be drawing near.   

Then bright Apollo, threw his radiant smiles,  
Into the laps, of each delicious spring.  
Where l'hilomele, the weary time beguiles,  
In grovie shades, fountains environing:  
The late bare trees, there sportively did grow,  
With levy sprigs on every branch and bow.   

In garments g●…een, the m●…dows fair did rank it,  
The valleys low of garments green were glad,  
In garments green, the pastures proud did prank it  
The dally grounds in garments green were clad▪  
Each hill and dale, each bush and brie●… were seen,  
Then for to flourish, in their garments green.   

Thus as the meadows, forests and the fields,  
In sumptuous tires, had decked their dainty slades  
The flourishing trees, wanton pleasure yields,  
Keeping the sun, from out their shady shades:  
On whose green leaves, upon each calmy day,  
The gentle wind, with dallying breath did play.   

The Oak, the Elm, the Alder and the Ash,  
Were richly clad, in garments gay and green,  
The Aspen trees, that oft the waters wash,  
In like arraiment, then were neatly seen:  
The lou'ly Laurel, precious, rich and fair,  
With Odours sweet, did fill the wholesome air.   

Their spreading arms, their branches and their boughs  
Were made a bower, for the pretty birds,  
Where Philomele, did come to pay her vows,  
With sugared tunes, in steed of woeful words:  
Their lofty tops, of towering branches fair,  
Dampt with the music, of delicious air.   

Whose haughty pride, regarded mirth nor moans,  
But with ambition, viewed the summer flowers,  
Their labels hanged, with quivering dew-pearld stones,  
Did represent, spangles on amorous bowers:  
There grovy shade, such pleasing air did lend,  
As doth on groves, and grovy shades attend.   

Unwieldy trees, gorgeous to behold,  
Stood hand in hand, with branches all combining,  
Their Gentle arms, each other did enfold,  
With ivy sprigs, upon their bodies climbing:  
The more to break, the hot reflexing rays,  
Of bright Apollo, in the summer days.   

Drawn by the pleasure, of delightful air,  
Those chequered borders, oft I did frequent,  
And underneath, those shadows fresh and fair,  
The weary time, oft wearily I spent:  
Where at the length, it was my chance to meet,  
An aged man, whom I did kindly greet.   

He mirror like, for nurture, discipline,  
Repaid my words, with courteous kind regreeting,  
Then drew we near, a fayre-spread-shady pi●…e,  
Under whose boughs, we solemnized our meeting:  
Whereas long time, the time did not pursue,  
But that familiar, in discourse we grew.   

His aged wit, so pregnant made me muse,  
With courtly terms, and eloquence all flowing,  
And such they were, that caused me t'accuse,  
Mine own so dull, that spent my time nought knowing:  
His tongue-sweet notes, tied mine ears in chains,  
So that my senses, were ravished with his strains.   

The sweetest music, tuched with curious hand,  
Whose tones harmonious, bath's a listening ear,  
Forcing fierce Tigers, all amazed stand,  
Unto his voice compared, did harshly jar:  
Which caused me, with earnest suit to crave,  
Some story from, his pleasing self to have.   

Who neither granted, nor denied the motion,  
With pleasant sadness, stood as in a muse;  
Whilst I ensnared, with his so sweet devotion,  
Fixed mine eyes, his muteness to peruse:  
But then his tongue, broke off his contemplation,  
And thus began, discourse with invocation.   

O thou great guider, of the guideless nine,  
With sacred dew, my witless wit inspire,  
Water my senses, with thy Nectar fine,  
Ravish my breast, with thy all hallowed fire:  
So that my tongue, stray not in fond delight,  
But in his course, wonder thy mighty might.   

When lively blood, did run within my veins,  
I took delight, to travel here and there,  
So much as then, my parents gave my reins,  
Unto myself, to see how I could bear:  
The fickle slights, of Fortune's tu●…ning wheel,  
Which like Silenus, drunkenly doth reel.   

The spring drew on, and youth did fill my pores,  
Earnest desire, bred a straying motion,  
Within my breast, to see the Cambrian shores,  
That bounds upon, the all untamed Ocean:  
Where huge steep rocks, shadeth each covert plain,  
Beaten with waves, from the Hiberian main.   

And in a morn, when Phoebus' fair did rise,  
Out off his bed, the mountains to discover,  
Climbing the lofty, gresses of the skies,  
With longing steps, to overtake his lover:  
My greedy eyes, desired to feed their sight,  
Upon the sweetest, of Camb●…iaes delight.   

Then did I walk, toward those rising hills,  
Where careful pastors, of their Kids were keeping,  
Whilst lazy swains, their fore-duld senses kills,  
By entertaining, too much time with sleeping:  
There did pastora's, with their roundelays,  
Pass with delight, the summer of their days.   

There might I see, the lofty Cedar trees,  
F●…om branch to bough, where pretty birds were skipping,  
Their honey leaves, did feed the busy Bees,  
Under whose shade, the milk white Does were tripping:  
Their spreading arms, wore ivy all combining,  
Where might be seen, the nimble Squirrel climbing.   

There did I see, the valleys where the flocks,  
Of fearful Ewes, and tender Lambs were feeding,  
The little springs, that do run by the rocks,  
The levy shrubs, where pretty birds were breeding:  
There Philomele, with sweet recording fills,  
The plains with music, echoing from the hills,   

I walked along, that fair adorned field,  
Till that I came, to a delicious spring,  
Whose smiling current, did such pleasure yield,  
As sweet content, unto content could bring:  
There did I rest, and stay myself a while,  
Some tedious hours, thinking to beguile.   

For why that fount, as pleasantly was placed,  
As if delight, should lodge between two paps,  
Freed with content, from Boreas' northern blast,  
Or as a Carpet, twixt two ladies laps:  
Environed round, with their displaying tresses,  
Whose amber shade, that golden Carpet blesses.   

Fair quivering myrtle, did engird the spring,  
With jesamins' sweet, and ffowring Eglantine,  
Under whose shade, the pretty birds did sing,  
Melodious strains, celestial and divine:  
With Delphian tunes, such as the muse's plays,  
Filling the thickets, with their sweet delays.   

The rolling pebbles, and the flinty stones,  
Were foftly by, a shallow curent turned,  
The murmuring water, played with silver ton's,  
Loath to depart, and staying, running mourned:  
Whose trickling-christall, musicke-sounding voice,  
Into mine ears, did yield a pleasing noise.   

Such were the mirth, and pleasant harmony,  
The Organ air, did gently seem to make,  
With dulcean strains, of heavenly melody,  
As once Mercury whispered by the Lake:  
Whose trembling breath, new descants did devise,  
Till juno's Argus, closed his hundred eyes.   

The pretty birds, did bear a sweet record,  
The bubbling streams, the under-song did keep,  
The dallying wind, such music did afford,  
That almost rocked, my senses fast a sleep:  
And well near caused me, for to take a nap,  
As I lay musing, in young Tellus' lap.   

But then I heard, a sad lamenting voice,  
The which did cut, a passage through the air,  
And filled the woods, with such a doleful noise,  
That all the groves, seemed cloyed up with care:  
Which forced me, from that place for to arise,  
And closed again, my well near slumbering eyes.   

Then drew I near, a little rising rock,  
Where as the waves, did dash their high curled brows,  
The birds and beasts, together they did flock,  
Cooling themselves, under those shady boughs:  
Which dangling hung, like to a golden fleece,  
Over the head, of fair Amphrisus' niece.   

And underneath, a pleasant Hawthorne tree,  
The which did grow, near to that rocky hill,  
There did I stand, to listen and to see,  
The doleful noise, the which the air did fill:  
I stayed not long, but well I might descry,  
Whence did proceed, that woeful harmony.   

For near that place, a stately pine did grow,  
Angrily shaking, of his levy crown,  
At whose stern feet, the humble shrubs did bow,  
Fearing the terror, of his rugged frown:  
Under whose arms, a woeful man did dwell,  
The which did hold, that bower for his cell.   

Where he did often, with lamenting cries,  
Bewray the cause, of all his woeful cares,  
The which did seem, to pierce the vaulty skies,  
And to dissolve, hard flints to brinish tears:  
To fill the woods, with noise as loud as thunder,  
To splitt hard rocks, and rend great trees a sunder.   

Whom when I did, with full aspect behold,  
I musing stood, his grievous groans to hear,  
His prayers were plaints, his sobs his solace told,  
His mirth was moan, his cries were full of care:  
With broken sighs, a thousand times and more,  
Thus he began, his sorrows to deplore.   

Why did I breathe? why did I take the air?  
Why did I suck? why was I fed with milk?  
Why was I young? why was I counted fair?  
Why was I nursed? why was I clad in silk:  
Why did I live? why died I not being young?  
Why was I lulled? why was I sweetly sung.   

What cruel planet, governed at my birth?  
What dismal star, that day or night did shine?  
What loathsome vapour, overspread the earth,  
Upon that sad, natiu●…ty of mine?  
Or did the hags, with all their hellish power,  
Enchant, bewitch, or curse that fatal hour?   

O had the Midwife, when she first received me,  
With nimble hand, my vital powers stopped,  
Or had my nurse, of living breath bereaved me,  
These fields of sorrow, I had never cropped:  
But both I summon, with impartial eye,  
As Actors in, my woeful Tragedy.   

Yet did I live, full twenty summers long,  
In springs of joy, one running over other,  
How then poor souls, could they enact my wrong?  
No 'twas not they, it was my foster mother:  
Fortune 'twas thee, that blyssefful men dost spite,  
Thou only stolst from me, my heart's delight.   

Thou tottering elf, with ever turning wheel,  
That first did set, me soft upon thy knee,  
And gav'st me all, thy blessings for to feel,  
What caused thee thus, unkind to louvre on me?  
No 'twas not Fortune, she was always kind  
Filling my sail, still with a prosperous wind.   

Could any wretch, be then s'infortunate,  
As I poor soul, whom Fortune seemed to guide,  
No, fortune no, it was thy cruel hate,  
The which for me, these sorrows didst provide:  
Thou art the wretch, thou art the beldame vile,  
Thou didst my heaven, my heart, and hope exile.   

For when my years, had furnished forth my youth,  
And twenty times, the sun had changed his light,  
Thou most perfidious, wavering still in truth,  
My silly soul didst cross, with cruel spite:  
And only thou, by falsehood didst deceive me,  
Of joy and bliss, thou didst at once bereave me.   

Thy circled wheel, thou didst to me forth bring,  
More richly decked, then ere it was before,  
Thou setst me gently, on that fickle ring,  
And gav'st me pleasure, in abundant store?  
With many favours, still thou didst belay me,  
But with thy falsehood, still thou didst betray me.   

Thou drewest me on, with loves enticing bait,  
To walk the paths, where thou a net hadst laid,  
With thousand snares, thou didst upon me wait,  
Until I was, of all my joys betrayed:  
To desperate dangers, thou didst easily wile me,  
Whilst from my life, and love thou didst exile me,   

Then did this heavy, hermit seeming man,  
Srand mutely still, but still he seemed to moan,  
His aged visage, looked both pale and wan,  
His sadness he, redoubled with a groan:  
He seemed a while, unto himself to mutter,  
But yet no word, at all, I heard him utter.   

Until at length, him did I plainly see,  
A stately picture, in his hand to take,  
The which I guessed, a holy saint to be,  
For that so much, of it he seemed to make:  
He kissed it oft, and hugged it as he lay,  
And thus at length, to it began to say.   

Fair but unkind, no kind: fie too too cruel,  
Thirty long years, with me I have thee borne,  
Thrice ten years told, loves fire hath been my fuel,  
So long my heart, thy fair imprint hath worn:  
If Nestor's years, thrice three times told I live,  
My love alone, to thee I freely give.   

Tell me my love, tell me, why didst thou leave me?  
Why to thy Love, didst thou prove so unkind?  
Pardon my dear, was death that did deceive me,  
Yet art thou toombed, for ever in my mind:  
Then did he weep, bewailing of his harms,  
And with these words, he ●…uld it in his arms.   

O had these arms, thy living corpse embraced,  
But half so oft, as now they have done thee,  
These paths of sorrow, I had never traced,  
Nor died in thrall, but lived and died free:  
But sith thou living, wer●… not in my power,  
I'll hug thy shadow, till my latest hour.   

With which sad words, his grovelling corpse did fall,  
With ghastly colour, sighs abound-Lamenting,  
Which forced me rue, his sad and woeful thrall,  
wi●…h rueful pity, and with tears relenting:  
I moved to aid him, yet as loath to fear him,  
I pau●…d a while, before that I came near him.   

For that he then, began to move his eyes,  
His earth-like hands, his heavy trunk did raise,  
His sighs did vault, into the dimmed skies,  
His tongue forgot, not how his love to praise:  
But fearing least, his secrets should be spied,  
From out his bower, fullsecretly he pried.   

Then with deep sighs, he did again repeat,  
The rare perfections, of his long dead love,  
Her comely graces, and her gesture neat,  
The which did seem the senseless stones to move:  
Which lovesick plaints, my tongus too weak to tell,  
His pensive passions, did so much excel,.   

No●… could a volume, copy his loves descriptions,  
That were dislodged, from his wo-swolne hea●…t,  
For he recited, with true loves affections,  
A thousand times, each limb and lineal part:  
All which by him, so oft pronounced were,  
That almost dulled, my shallow sense to hear.   

Yet did his sweet, sophistick sorrows tie,  
My Leaden powers, in chains of list'n●…ng steel,  
With greedy ears, to suck atentively,  
His sugared jobs, the which I seemed to feel:  
For each sad strain, that from his lips did pass,  
Bewrayed the birthright, of his gentle race.   

Then did he take, a fair delicious lute,  
Whose well tuned string, she touched with curious skill,  
Forcing his fingers, with a swift pursuit,  
To strike the frets, of musics ground at will:  
His nimble hand, guided by supple veins,  
With heavenly pawsons, closed hisdol e●…ull streynes.   

Not great Apollo's viol-sounding lays,  
That forced huge Tmolus, dance with buskey hair,  
When silly Midas, robbed him of his praise,  
Might with the descants, of his Lute compare:  
And with a tune, would move a stone to pity,  
He sadly sighed, and song this mournful ditty.   

The hermits song.  

YE hills and dales,  
Ye rocks and vales,  
Bear witness of my moan:  
Ye water nymphs,  
And pretty Imphes,  
Come sigh with me and groan.  
Come ye satires, and ye Fawns,  
Come ye from the pleasant Lawns:  
From the groves, and shady trees,  
On whose Green leaves, the humming bees,  
Their thighs do fill,  
At their own will,  
And whereon still,  
With flittering wings, poor Progne flees.   

Ye Fairy clues,  
Come ye yourselves,  
From out each hollow cave:  
And Coridon,  
Come thou alone,  
Thy presence I do crave:  
For thy pipe comfortingly,  
Equalleth my harmony.  
Mournful Amyntas, now and thee  
Are best to bear me company:  
For with consort,  
We may report,  
Our Loves extort,  
With woeful strains of melody.   

Ye Siluans all,  
Both great and small,  
come Listen to my grief:  
Ye kids and Lambs,  
Come with your dams,  
And bring me some relief:  
Thou maid of Comes, come to me,  
With aid in this my misery,  
And lead me once Aeneas-like,  
Unto that ugly Stygian dike.  
That I may mix,  
And yet perfixe,  
Mine eye on Styx,  
Where Cerberus liveth, that fowl tike,   

If that weary,  
Charon's ferry,  
Will no ways take me in:  
Vndoubting harms,  
With these mine arms,  
I'll venture for to swim:  
For sometimes his coalblack boat,  
Rides not in that road a float,  
If so, I will in no wise stay,  
Although unto mine own decay  
In unfearing poars,  
With arming oars,  
From off the shores,  
I'll quickly post from thence away.   

For if that I,  
Should chance to die,  
And in that Lake to wander:  
Yet should I gain,  
On Lofty strain,  
Above-love drowned ●…eander.  
But if that well I should pass,  
Ugly Charon's muddy place,  
And happily to land me there,  
Within that fair celestiallsphere,  
Then with small pain,  
I should attain,  
Elizianplaine:  
Where my love sits crowned in a chair,   
FINIS.   

When he had finished, up his mournful song,  
He laid his lute, down by his weary side,  
Himself he stretched, upon the grass along,  
And with sad wailings, thus again he cried:  
How much avayles, it that my travels far,  
Hath not worn out, the print of Cupid's skarr?   

What Christian land, is it that hath not borne me?  
What Island was, not subject to my sight?  
How many woods, and deserts still do scorn me?  
But nothing yields, to me my heart's delight:  
From place to place, Desire my corpse doth carry,  
Which same desire, there will not let me tarry.   

Then did he sigh, then wept, then sighed amain,  
Then wrung his hands, than cried, then crossed his arms,  
Then tore his hair, than groaned, then wept again,  
Then with sad tears, he thus bewailed his harms:  
Padua farewell, my love in thee doth lie,  
Within thy walls, I lost my liberty.   

And Albion now, to thee my native home,  
Where first I did, rec●…e my vital breath,  
After all pains, pain to thee I come,  
Within thy bounds, to give myself to death:  
For sith my love, my 〈◊〉 hath me ●…o saken,  
My last farewell, of Padua I have taken.   

But when alas, when shall my sorrows end?  
When shall I cease, of Pad●…a for to cry?  
When shall I see, stern 〈◊〉 unbend,  
My woeful thread, of sad calamity?  
When shall I leave, in zealous cloak to stand,  
With lovesick cries, to curse both sea and land?   

O let me never, cease with hidecus cries,  
With doleful tunes, and horied exclamations,  
To send my ' sighs, into the lofty skies,  
And pierce the Chaos, with my invocations,  
Until these eyes, that fed their rauiued sight:  
Upon Aegesta, be deprived of light.   

Thou sullen earth, with Anger sounding woe,  
Ye bleating 〈◊〉 shaded with sheltering twigs,  
Ye murmuring waters, that with ●…ates o●… c●…owe,  
Ye chirping birds, that chant the dancing sprigs:  
Come all at once, your sadd●…●…nts bring,  
My fair aegesta's, 〈◊〉 to sing.   

Dead is my love, dead are my hopes and joys,  
accursed Fates, that of my love bereft me,  
Cursed be all hopes, let hopes be hapless toys,  
For love, and joy, hope, hap, and all hath left me:  
And I remain, uncessantly to cry,  
Still living, still, ten thousand deaths to die.   

O Let me curse, that day, the time and hour,  
When first I left, fair Padua and my love,  
O let me curse, all gold and golden power,  
By whose fowl force, these ugly storms I prove:  
O let me curse, that time that I did gain,  
The name of Knight, to live in hermits pain.   

But O my Love, my Love, and only joy,  
My fair Aegessa, Aegessa I'll come to thee,  
More fair than Helen, sack of stately Troy,  
Once more I'll come, to sew to court to woe thee:  
Now I will come, to thine immortal shrine,  
Where thou dost live, triumphant and divine.   

Then why do I, thus linger here and there,  
And seek not out, the wait ' avernus cave?  
Wretch that I am, how can I thus forbear,  
Pining for want, of that which I would have?  
I Glaucus-like, do travel day and night,  
While she by Circe, is transformed quite.   

Wherefore I'll go, like to that Thracian bold,  
With this my lute, my journey will I take,  
Whose frets and strings, I'll frame of glitring gold,  
Then Orphe-like, I'll cross that muddy lake:  
And thou fair Pallas, and ye muses nine,  
My hand and tongue, guide with your powers divine.   

Venus I crave, a helping hand of thee,  
Safe to conduct me, through the Lethean fens,  
And thy ripe wit, lend me sweet Mercury,  
That I with ease, may pass that mierie Themmes:  
So that black Charon, with his swartieoares,  
May set me safe, on Demogorgon's shoar's   

Where Orphe-like, to Tenarus I'll go,  
Which ugly gate, doth open towards the North,  
There Cerberus fowl, doth make his triple show,  
There takes he in, but none he will put forth:  
Ye fates unreele, my love's sad destiny,  
Or I will seek, her with Persephone,   

With that he closed, his hollow wo-swolne eyes,  
And stretched his limbs, along the senseless ground,  
His ghastly visage, pierced the vaulties skies,  
Sometimes his eyballs, seemed for to turn round:  
With tortured groan's, than would he sadly gasp,  
With empty palms, than did he weakly grasp.   

Then did he lie, with quivering legs and arms,  
Then groveling crawls, then feebly fall again,  
Then as one struck, with magic spells and charms,  
There would he seem, quite breathless to remain:  
Thus did helie, thus did he sometimes welter,  
But than stone still, the shadows did him shelter.   

At which prospect, I could no longer stand,  
But soon did ●…ne, to help him in that case,  
And water cold, I brought within my hand,  
Wherewith I rubbed, his pale and ghastly face:  
I raised him up, then set him down again,  
Then pulled him here, then thrust him thence amay fie.   

At length a sigh, mixed with a grievous groan,  
He sent to tell, some life in him was left,  
The which did move, my very heart to moan,  
For that so much, of sense he was bereft:  
Yet labouring still, I moved him here and there,  
Until at length, he asked who it were.   

That so did wake him, from his quiet sleep,  
Which was so much, unto his hearts content,  
With that he wept, but seeming not to weep,  
For fear that I, should relish what it meant:  
He wiped his eyes, that were o'erflowed with tears,  
And seemed to banish, all his former cares.   

Then unto me, these speeches he addressed,  
How could you find, my silly Hermit's bower?  
You did not well, to wake me from my rest,  
For in two days, I scarce do sleep one hour:  
But that I am, a Hermit as you see,  
With good cause I, might with you angry be.   

Alas (quoth I) good gentle father hear me,  
And let not anger, harbour in your breast,  
Although you chide not, well your looks may fear me,  
For ages frowns, may breed a youths unrest:  
Then if you please, to hear what I shall say,  
I will reveal, how I did chance this way.   

And seeing you la●…'d; as I you lying found,  
Seeming quite breathless, in my judgements eye,  
With arms and legs, stretched forth upon the ground,  
Pity did force, my harmless hand to try:  
As half amazed, the un-approved doubt,  
If Nature's taper, were quite wasted out.   

For surely sir, if accident should call me,  
Unto a chance, such as this chance hath been,  
I tell you plain, what hap so ere befall me,  
The like effect, in me should sure be seen:  
For why I durst, have pawned my neighbour's head,  
Your body had, from out this world been dead.   

These words I uttered, something smilingly,  
With humorous gesture, and a pleasing vain,  
Because I would not, have him willingly,  
Think that I knew, aught of his woe and pain:  
And truth to tell, I could no better make them,  
Because that he, could no ways better take them.   

For than he calmly, did desire of me,  
To show what pastimes, I did most embrace,  
What country man, and what my name might be,  
And eke what chance, had brought me to that place:  
This did he ask, with words so fair and cool,  
As he his time, had spent in Nurture's school.   

I not denying, of his kind request,  
With sad discourse, my name and country told,  
And some light toy, that harboured in my breast,  
I did not let, to him for to unfold:  
But for the chance, that brought me to that place,  
Thus did I gloze it, with a brazen face.   

Aurora's spring, that ripes the golden morns,  
No sooner pried, o'er the mountains tops,  
But that the Huntsmen, wound out their horns,  
Calling the Dogs, into a grovie cops:  
I followed on, at length there did appear,  
Roused from the wood, a lusty fallow Dear.   

The hounds pursued, the huntsmen's echoing noise,  
Did seem throughout, the shady groves to ring,  
Unskilled of horn, scarce with a huntsman's voice,  
I followed still, to see that novel thing:  
'Twere foll'in me, Thersites like to vaunt it,  
But the huntsmen, and the bounds did chant it.   

The grieved heart, with tears bewails his case,  
The eg●…t dog●…, did lightly pass the grounds,  
A Pa●…an b●…ach, was foremost in the chase,  
For sh●… did lead, the other cry of hounds:  
Which caused the heart, to s●…ud with n●…mble heels,  
o'er hills and dales, o'er craggy bracks and fields.   

Then did he fall, into a heard of dear,  
Then to the soil, then to the heard again,  
Then in the woods, he faintly did appear,  
Then o●…e the mountains, thence into a plain:  
And all this while, the hounds had no●… a check,  
But still did seem, to take him by the neck.   

And foremost still, that fair Italian hound,  
The which was thought, to be of Spartan kind,  
Of all the rest, she seemed to gather ground,  
For she did run, as swift as any wind:  
Which caused the dear, i●…'s neck to lay his horns,  
And so to post, through brambles, briars and thorns.   

The huntsmen glad, to see their sport so good,  
Did wind their h●…nes, to courage up their hounds,  
The silly dear, did hasten to the wood,  
The dogs full cry, did keep a ●…arrowe bounds:  
So hat sometimes, they seemed his haunch to nipp,  
which caused him feebly, from there gripes to slip.   

o'er bush and brier, the dogs did seem to make him,  
Bounce, lean, and skipp●…, when he could scarcely go.  
I follow still, but could not overtake him,  
Yet d●…d I cross, and meet him to and fro:  
Then in the groves, the ●…oundes did ring apace,  
with yelping voices, in that solemn chase,   

Then here, then there, the echoing wood resounded,  
Of those shrill notes, displayed with horns and hounds,  
The noise whereof, into the skies rebounded,  
Throughout the hills, and all the dally grounds:  
Which pastime rare, my tongue denies to tell,  
The hunting music, did so much excel.   

Then for to meet, the game a nearer way,  
I walked along, a dale hard by a fountain,  
Whereas a while, to drink I there did s●…ay,  
Then did I climb, the top of yonder mountain:  
Where I might view, at large the valley grounds,  
But could not hear, the huntsmen nor the hounds.   

Then looking towered, this little shady plain,  
Like a young huntsman, I began to call,  
Whereas me thought, one answered me again,  
That seemed my voice, in his for to install:  
I something angry, came along the ground,  
But then I knew, it was an echoes sound,   

Thus having lost, the sport I came to see,  
And knowing not where, to seek the same again,  
My mind did with, my weary legs agree,  
Homeward to go, through this covert plain:  
Thus lea●…ing off, the lusty red Deeres chase,  
It was my chance, to find you in this place.   

Then howsoe'er, I pray you pardon me,  
Were you asleep, or were you in a sound,  
Or in a trance, as so you well might be,  
But surely dead, you seemed when I you found:  
Chance is but chance, then for this chance excuse me,  
Sith in my thoughts, I did no whit abuse ye.   

Thus have I told you, all you did demand,  
And more will tell you, if you do request it,  
there's nothing lieth, within my powerless hand,  
But age shall have it, else I will detest it:  
Then ask and have, there's nought consists in me,  
But you free owner, of the same shallbe.   

Then did he seem, to cloak both wrath and love,  
The heat of one, did quench the others fire,  
Where two extremes, in one doth seem to move,  
It qualifieth, the hotness of desire:  
For neither moved, with love nor fretful spleen,  
Clad in these words, his speech was neatly seen.   

Your courtesies, excel far my desert,  
My merits no way, can them countervail,  
But if my love, or aught within my heart,  
Can equal them, I will in no ways fail:  
But what you have, in kindness show'd to me,  
By me shall no ways, unrequited Bee.   

For look what nurture, doth by nature owe,  
Unto a stranger, you have showed to me,  
Then if that I, a stranger should not show,  
Such courteous deeds, as might with yours agree:  
Well might I gain, myself a scandal crime,  
And show misspent, the travels of my time.   

But sith that now, the sun hath well near passed,  
His half days course, climbing the lofty sphere,  
And that long travel, in your limbs hath placed,  
Hunger and thirst, with hunting of the Dear:  
Let me entreat you, with these ca●…es of mine,  
In this my bower, this once with me to dine.   

I gave him thanks, and seemed right well content,  
At which my words, the Hermit turned him round,  
Unto his scrip, he then directly went,  
Taking a cloth, and spread it on the ground:  
And as his cloth, and cates he neatly laid,  
With smile terms, these words to ●…ee he said.   

Sir think not now, yourself in town or court,  
For to be pampe●…d, with delicious fare,  
For here remains, no pomp nor stately port,  
But think you here, inuiorned round with care:  
Here use we not, our bellies for to fill,  
But feed at need, stern hunger for to kill.   

With that he went, to fetch some water in,  
While I stood musing, for to see his fare,  
For he had set, a skull for to begin,  
Which would have moved; a prodigal to care:  
And right against it, stood an ho●…re glass,  
Where one might see, how swistly time did pass.   

Then did he set, an earthen pot of flowers,  
Whose colour clear, was withered quite away,  
Then did he set, two other, whose fai●…e powers,  
Seemed to contain, the pleasures of the day:  
And then a book, and then a little bell,  
But what that meant, my senses could not t●…ll.   

No bit of meat, upon the table stood,  
But some few roots, the which alone did lie,  
Alas thought, I, this is but simple food,  
Yet for this once, I will not him deny.  
But I will sit, and think I have good meat,  
That I may see, how he these-cates will eat.   

Th●… with his ●…itcher, he came in again,  
Filled with fair water, from a fountain clear,  
And purer far, than silver drops of rain,  
That falleth in, the April of the year:  
Then with these words, he took me by the hand,  
You see your fare, then do not musing stand.   

But sit you down, upon these flowers by me,  
Although course fare, to dinner you shall have,  
Yet si●… I pray, and bear me company,  
For near good fare, was in a heremites cave:  
Yet if that want, thereof your sense doth dull,  
Our table talk, shall surely fill you full.   

Then sat I down, upon the carpet grass,  
Where after thanks, to God for that our meat,  
He did begin, the dinner time to pass,  
With sad discourse, but not a bit did eat:  
For in his hand, he took the dead man's skull,  
The which did seem, to fill his stomach full.   

He held it still, in 〈◊〉 sinister hand,  
And turned it soft, and stroked it with the other,  
He smiled on it, and oft demurely saund,  
As it had been, the head of his own brother:  
Oft would h'haue spoke, but something bred delay,  
At length half weeping, these words did he say.   

This barren skull, that here you do behold,  
Why might it not, have been an emperors head?  
Whose storehouse rich, was heaped with massy gold,  
If it were so, all that to him is dead:  
His Empire crown, his dignities and all,  
When death took him, all them from him did fall.   

Why might not this, an empress head have been,  
Although now bare, with earth and crooked age?  
Perhaps it was, the head of some great Queen,  
Virtuous in youth, though now spoiled with earth's rage:  
Well if it were, so rich a treasure once,  
Now 'tis no more but rattling ghastly bones.   

Say that it were, the head of some great man,  
That wisely searched, and pried out every cause,  
And that invented, every day to skanne,  
The deep d●…stinctions, of all sorts of laws:  
And sometimes so, cut off his neighbour's head,  
Why if it were, himself is now but dead.   

And might it not, a Lady sometimes joy,  
Thave decked, and trimmed, this now rain beaten face,  
With many a trick, and new found pleasing toy?  
Which if that now, she did behold her case:  
Although on earth, she were for to remain,  
She would not paint, nor trim it up again.   

Why might not this, have been some lawyers pate,  
The which sometimes, bribed, brawled, and took a fee,  
And law exacted, to the highest rate?  
Why might not this, be such a one as he?  
Your quirks, and quillets, now sir where be they,  
Now he is mute, and not a word can say.   

Why might not this, have garnished forth some dame,  
Whose sole delight, was in her dog and fan,  
Her gloves, and mask, to keep her from the aim,  
Of Phoebus' heat, her hands or face to tan:  
Perhaps this might, in every sort agree,  
To be the head, of such a one as she.   

Or why not thus, some filthy pander slave,  
That broker like, his soul doth set and sell,  
Might not have died, and in an honest grave,  
After his death, gone thither for to dwell:  
And I come there, long after he were dead,  
And purchase so, his filthy panders head.   

Or say't were thus, some three chinned foggy dame,  
The which was so, but then a bawd was turned,  
And kept a house, of wanton Venus' game,  
Until such time, her chimneys all were burned:  
And there some one, with Gallian spice well sped,  
May die of that, and this might be her head,   

But O I run, I run too far astray,  
And prate and talk, my wits quite out of door,  
Say't were a King, Queen, Lord, or Lady gay,  
A Lawyer, Minion, Pander, or a whore:  
If it were noble, 'twere not for me to creak on.  
If it were base, it were too vile to speak on.   

But what so ere it was, now 'tis but this,  
A dead man's skull, usurped from his grave,  
Yet do I make it, still my foremost dish,  
For why? 'tis all the comfort that I have:  
In that I may, when any dine with me,  
Show what they were, and eke what they shall be.   

Then on the cloth, he set it down again,  
And with a sigh, hart-deepe with half a groan,  
Which drew salt tears, from out his eyes amain,  
Although he cloaked them, with a pretty moan:  
Well sir quoth he, although your chear's not great,  
This is the sauce, you shall have to your meat.   

Which I no niggard, wish you not to spare,  
Although it be an ill digesting meat,  
Yet such it is, that we must know and hear,  
Though we not that, yet that our lives will eat:  
And who soe'er, with in my bower shall dine,  
Shall taste this sauce, ere any cates of mine.   

Then did he give, me of his rootie food,  
And bade me eat, and he took of the same,  
He eat thereof, affirming it were good,  
But I to taste it, knew not how to frame.  
And yet because, that I was hunger-beaten,  
I chawed a bit, and seemed as though I had eaten.   

Then did he take, his pitcher in his hand,  
And courteously, did proffer drink to me,  
I wiled him drink, and I at his command,  
next taster of, that same his drink would be:  
He drunk thereof, and after so did I,  
And set the pot, upon the ground us by.   

Then in his hand, he took the hour glass,  
And these like words, to me he did bewray,  
Behold saith he, how here the time doth pass,  
Tread you upright, or go you quite a stray:  
Here may you see, how swi●… your time doth run,  
And ceaseth not, until your ●…fe be done.   

This glass even now, was full of slippery sand,  
This glass even now, was like the prime of youth,  
This glass even now, was filled with plenty's hand,  
Only in this, you may behold Time's truth:  
Here you may see, that time is always sliding,  
This is a mirror, of fickle tims abiding.   

See how it g●…ides, see, see, how fast it run,  
S●…y a good life, upon this time did dwell,  
〈◊〉 not to●… soon, his hour should be come,  
〈◊〉 in virtue, others did excel:  
N●…, we●…e he Moses, David or Solomon,  
His ti●…e thus come, his life must needs be gone.   

No●… 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●…t, the lamp hath burned the oil,  
Th●…s 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, ●…ithin this glass is set,  
Were this 〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉 now were freed from toil,  
A●…l ear●…ly 〈◊〉▪ now he would forget:  
And as this 〈◊〉, within this glass lie still,  
So should the e●…th, his breathless body hill.   

Without more words, the gla●…e he did set down,  
And took two pot●…s, of flowers in his hands,  
He knit his brows, and seemed for to frown,  
Yet of the virtues, thus at length he ●…kans.  
These withered flowers, were as fair as these,  
And these fair flowers, willbe as foul as these.   

This pot of flowers, that dead and withered be,  
In prime of show, but yesterday were growing,  
Their blasted looks, thus faded as you see,  
Were yesterday, both pleasant fresh and flowing:  
What we are all, by these we may divine,  
When death shall cut, our thread and fatal line.   

And these fair flowers, that now so fair do seem,  
Whose powers were fostered, with this morning's dew,  
Their gaudy time, as I do justly deem,  
Is nigh half spent, as trial shall prove true:  
For ere their looks, the morrow light shall see,  
Their pleasant hew, full withered off shallbe.   

These faded flowers, are like unto the man,  
The which cold dead, upon the ground doth lie,  
With ghastly colour, visage pale and wan,  
And many mourners, him attending by:  
His life thus gone, his body nothing crave,  
But to be hid, within an earthly grave.   

The withered flowers, than he did set down,  
And took the flowers, equal to the other,  
Which when they were, each one by other shown,  
Scarce could I deem, the on's hue from the other:  
But that the last, in's right hand he did hold,  
The first of them, his left hand did enfold.   

Then with sad looks, he sigh't and thus bespoke,  
Behold these flowers, a paradox in years,  
With such remorse, these speeches from him broke,  
That he did partly, smother them with tears▪  
Behold (quoth he) the man that lives in pain,  
And eke the man, that doth in joy remain.   

These flowers (quoth he) his right hand flowers meaning,  
Doth represent, the life, of happy men,  
The which with virtue, in their bound●… containing,  
Do lead their liue●…, that none may look age●…▪  
Whose human course, no ma●… hath ever seen,  
To be corrupt, with fretfullire or spleen.   

These flowers are like, the man who from his youth,  
Hath led his life, in paths of upright ways,  
theyare like to him, that strayth not from the truth,  
But lives in goodness, all his youthful days▪  
theyare like to him, whose years do not decay,  
But liveth young, until his la●…est day.   

These flowers (quoth he,) were cropped two days ago,  
But yet do keep, their perfect colour still,  
The water is, the cause why they do so,  
For why? brimful, this small pot I did fill:  
So look where virtue's, filled with sweet content,  
There life or colour, will not soon be spent.   

Yet even as beauty, from these pretty flowers,  
Though moistly kept, at length will quite consume,  
So shall that man, who hath with all his powers,  
Decked himself, in virtues sweet perfume:  
For though he feeds, long on moist virtues breath,  
Yet at the length, he yields himself to death.   

Then did he look, upon his left hand flowers,  
Alas (quoth he,) me thinks I see you fade,  
The drought of woe, consumeth all your powers,  
YE are burnt with heat, though always kept in shade:  
For even as care, like fire consumes a man,  
So drought in shade, your beauteous colours tan.   

These flowers are like, the wilful prodigal,  
That unthrift-like, spendeth his youthful days,  
Mounting up still, even suddenly to fall,  
By in directing, of his wilful ways:  
His riotous life, his toys and lavish tongue,  
Makes him look old, when that he is but young.   

theyare like to him, that wantoness it abroad,  
With midnight revills, kept in Venus' court,  
Spar●…ng no cost, but la●…'th on golden load,  
And in a brothel, keeps Lordly port:,  
But when his purse, and veins are all drawn dry,  
Though he's but young, he looks as he would die.   

theyare not unlike, a virtuous nurtured child,  
The which did flourish, in his tender years,  
But got the reins, grows head strong proud and wild,  
Till all his grain, is turned to frutlesse tars:  
Then full of care, he leaves his foolish joy,  
And looks like age, when he is but a boy.   

Good sir (quoth he,) thus have I to you shown,  
The vertu●…s of, these several sorts of dishes,  
My glass and flowers, you the ●…ast have known,  
Although not filled, with flesh nor dainty fishes:  
And with those words, he did set down the flowers,  
Feeding again, for to revive his powers.   

Not past two bits, the silly man did eat,  
When in his hand, he took the book and bell,  
And thus of them, began for to entreat,  
Whilst drooping tears, from his sad eyes befell:  
This book (quoth he) a man's shape seems to have,  
And this the bell, that calls him to his grave.   

This Little book, presents the life of man,  
Wherein is wrapped, the substance of his soul,  
Which be it fresh, or be it pale or wan,  
IT must separate, when as this bell doth toll:  
How virtuous, bad, or pure soe'er it be,  
When death doth call, soul must from body flee.   

Within this book, doth spring the well of life,  
Which fountain clear, gives drink to all that craves it,  
Hear lieth the sword, that ends all Kinds of strife,  
Denied to none, but all that seeks it have it:  
And they that use, this sword, or water clear,  
This bells alarm, need not for to fear.   

Within this book, good men renew their sight,  
When as they bathe, their liquid veins therein:  
To hear this bell, it doth their soul's delight,  
They fear not death, they force him not a pin.  
For when stern death, thinks most their soul's t'anoy,  
This is their shield, they think him but a toy.   

This book (quoth he) should usurers behold,  
And foul usurpers, of their neighbour's land,  
That robs the poor, and heaps up hoards of gold,  
To note it well, they would amazed stand:  
And from those lands, and bags of money fall,  
For fear this Bell, to Limbo should them call.   

If drunkards, gluttons, or lascivious men,  
Would deeply dive, into this small books lines,  
Their own black leaves, they would turneo●…e a gen,  
And soon bewail, their monster like spent times:  
Arming themselves, with this, the scourge of hell,  
Lest they should fear, the tolling of the Bell.   

Or if that they, who swell with haughty pride,  
Within this book, should make their looking-glass,  
Or if false thieves, should here their shares divide,  
And view it well, before they hence did pass:  
Pride and Celeno, they would both go pray,  
For fear this Bell, to hell should them convey.   

But if a good, and virtuous living man,  
Should chance to pry, within this little book,  
He need not fear, for he already can,  
Their calmy lines with fair digest●…re brook:  
If death him call, he doth him strait defy,  
Only he knows, from this world he must die.   

This Bell presents, the Crier of a Court,  
The which in time, doth call both good and bad,  
Each man thereto, must duly make resort,  
For when he calls, an answer must be had:  
And when pale death, shall shut up all our powers,  
The doleful bell, doth strike our latest hours.   

With which sad words, he set them on the cloth,  
Now sir (quoth he) y'have tasted all my fare,  
The which to show, to some I would be loath,  
But speak I pray, how do ye like this cheer:  
Well: but me thinks, 'tis ill digesting food,  
No sir quoth he, 'tis pleasant sweet and good.   

For if a Prince, should chance to come this way,  
And in mine Arbour, sit as now you do,  
These cates and cheer, to him I would forth lay,  
And pray him look, and taste upon it too:  
And would not let, his pardon for to crave,  
To tell him this, doth represent his grave.   

Or if a Queen, with all her courtly train,  
Of states and peers, of Lords and Ladies gay,  
Should come within, this little shady plain,  
And in the Cell of poor Maluchus stay.  
What should detain, my tongue it might not tell,  
They must not aye, in earthly pleasures dwell?   

Let all the Lawyers, lodged within new Troy,  
And all the dames, that mincing minions are,  
The pandar slaves, and strumpets seeming coy,  
Come here to me, and none of them I'll spare:  
But tell them all, and that with small offence,  
Their time will come, and that they must pack hence.   

If mistress Maudlin, with her golden locks,  
Whose leman knows, his well-grift-forked brows,  
Or mistress Maukin, who sat twice i'th' stocks,  
Should undermine, these Hermit-shading bows:  
I would not let, their person thus to greet,  
Amend, your end, is but a winding sheet.   

Let them that spend, the flower of their time,  
The Venus wanton, and the prodigal,  
Who do not take, the sun while it doth shine,  
But let it pass, and think not of their fall:  
Let them come here, but once and dine with me,  
And here I'll tell them, what their end shall be.   

Let those that hoard, up gold and silver store,  
And never thinks, to part from it again,  
But starve poor Orphans, at their wretched door,  
And silly souls, for want thereof are slain:  
Let them look here, here shall they plainly see,  
At their last hour, what their best end shall b●…e.   

Let pride, and theft, and glutton-drunkennesse,  
And all the tribe, of miscreant demeanour,  
With all lascivious, folly and excess,  
Repair to this, my little shady bower:  
And taste this fare, as you have done with me,  
Then shall they know, what their best end shall be.   

Yet sir, quoth he, far be it from your heart,  
That you should take, a bad conceit herein,  
But of my words, and cheer receive a part,  
And think you welcome, to this homely Inn:  
Nor do I speak it, but that you should gain,  
Some pleasure by, your long spent time and pain.   

But now I see, an hour is fully spent,  
Since we sat down, within this homely place,  
Wherefore if you, be therewithal content,  
we'll end our dinner, with a thankful grace:  
Which being done, if that you please to stay,  
We will discourse, to spend this Summer's day.   

I was content, the duty was effected,  
The board was drawn, and all was laid aside,  
Each on his seat, in shadow sweet elected,  
And then the Hermit, thus his speech did ' guide:  
Good sir (quoth he) now do I call to mind,  
The Paduan brach, that was of Spartan kind.   

I pray you tell me, do you know her master,  
I ask not that, a Huntsman I would be,  
But that I heard, you say she did run faster,  
Then all the hounds, in that wood sounding cry:  
Fame would I know, him that in Padua ought her,  
And eke the man, that into Albion brought her.   

I blushed to hear, him name the dog again,  
That I had named, but neither seen, nor found,  
For why? the hunting was a moral plain,  
Himself the Hart, his love the Paduan hound:  
Yet that I might, protect myself from shame,  
Thus unto him, an answer I did frame.   

Sir, that fair brach, a courteous Knight doth keep,  
Who in his arms, will hug the tattling else,  
And in his bosom, suffers her to creep,  
So that the Ape, grows cursed, and bites himself:  
And were't not that, I should be thought to glory,  
Of them I could, discourse a pretty story.   

No sir, quoth he, if that you please to tell,  
That fair discourse, de●…iu'd from Italy,  
I cannot think, that glory vain doth dwell,  
Within that breast, where virtue seems to lie:  
Nor will I suffer, you to take the pain,  
Unless by lot, you do the place attain.   

For that from Padua, I did late return,  
And with these eyes, I sadly did behold,  
A sight the which, doth cause me yet to mourn,  
The which my tongue, did never yet unfold.  
Wherefore by lot, we may discern right well,  
Which of us two, the first discourse shall tell.   

The lots were cast, the Hermits was the charge,  
He must prepare, to tell the first discourse,  
When I did think, that I should hear at large,  
His lovesick passions, sighed with remorse:  
But he as one, that r●…ueld in despair,  
Began this Roman story to declare.   

The hermits discourse.  

WHere grisly cares, floweth untamed tides,  
Within the Ocean of a pensive breast,  
There sorrows ship, still at an anchor rides,  
Beaten with waves, of boiling thoughts unrest:  
Whole storms of sighs, against that ship is sent,  
Until her heart-worne, tackle all are rend.   

For when my heart, began to harbour grief,  
And that my thoughts, had entertained woe,  
In deserts wild, I sought to find relief,  
And pathless paths, my uncouth steps did know:  
Until at length, I did behold and see,  
Each senseless creature, boisterous storms did flee.   

The storms did force, the Lion leave his prey,  
The wily Fox, to hasten to his hole,  
The storms did force, the Wolf to howl and bray,  
The hind to steal, to covert with her foal.  
The storms did force, th' Antelope for to hide her,  
In shelters safe, conducted by the Tiger.   

The ugly Bear, unto her whelps did run,  
The bristled Boar, retired from his food,  
The bouncing Doa, unto the brakes did come,  
The fearful hare, did hasten to the wood:  
And all the beasts, that nature's art did mould,  
Some harbour sought, to keep them from the cold.   

Then did I likewise, to my Chamber go,  
Whose walls were painted, with over flowing tears,  
Mixed with the colour, of distress and woe,  
Drawn out with knots, of hopeless grief and fears:  
My bed of sorrow, I had lately bought,  
My sheets with sighs, most sumptously were wrought.   

My bolster filled, with sad lamenting groans,  
My pillow all, embroidered ore with care,  
My blanckets framed, full of w●…yling moans,  
My covering, embossed with despair:  
Thus was my Chamber, decked on every side,  
With woe and grief, wherein I did abide.   

Where I had time, and place enough to mourn,  
With fainting tears, there might I feast my fill,  
There might my sighs, redoubled well return,  
From hollow vaults, and every little hill:  
There to myself, myself was left alone,  
None left to hear, the tenure of my moan.   

For if there had, perhaps they would but smile,  
And laugh, and scoff, at my sad souls lament,  
Where, with the sighs, that I did time beguile,  
Would shake great hills, or stony rocks have rend:  
But such they were, as to myself were easing,  
Content my mind, and to myself were pleasing.   

Ten thousand sighs, I sent to fill the air,  
When from the air, I sucked them up again,  
A thousand times, I did repeat my care,  
When still my care, did with myself remain:  
I sighed, I sobbed, and weeping, hands did wring,  
And sometimes song, my woes with sonnetting.   

But after that, I had myself tormented,  
With horrid groans, whereon I daily fed,  
So that the rugged, breathless stone; lamented,  
I wrapped myself, in that care covered bed:  
Where thus my thoughts, did meditate on grief,  
Not knowing how, nor where to find relief.   

The malcontent, is waited on with woe,  
The lovers life, is care ore-guilt with joys,  
The penitent, his breast with sobs doth flow,  
Shedding out tears, his pensive soul avoids:  
Sighs at a beck, to each of them do fall,  
Sorrow doth sit, attending on them all.   

The male content, he neither eats nor sleeps,  
But meditates, upon he knows not what,  
His daring eyes, upon the earth still peeps,  
But what he seeks, his senses quite forgot:  
His sullen thoughts, doth seed on bitter gall,  
Most is his mirth, when greatest is his thrall.   

far more he labours, in his troubled mind,  
Then all the Ploughmen, in a thousand fields,  
His harvest reaped, when seasons are most kind,  
Less is his gain, than least of all theirs yields:  
He thinks his state, is happier than many,  
Yet loves, nor hates, nor fears, nor cares for any.   

His life he loves, as men loves summers snow,  
For life and death, are both to him all one,  
A life to death, he's sure that he doth owe,  
He death embraceth, ere that his life is gone:  
With this his vain, he thinks the Gods have blest (him)  
And in this vain, he goeth a while to rest him.   

The Lover sad, I moan with kind remorse,  
For why? I know no surgeon can him cure,  
His unseen wounds, are of so strange a force,  
That living long, no wight can them endure:  
He's srizing hot, and living always dead,  
Despairing hopes, and losing thinks him sped,   

He's well yet sick, and knows not where's his grief,  
He's burning cold, he hath and yet he skants,  
He's seeking still, though never finds relief,  
His heart seems pleased, yet that he wish he wants,  
Twixt two extremes, his ship is always sailing,  
[He thinks him sped, when all his baits are failing.   

He mourning sings, he smiles in sorrow sad,  
He dying lives, and lives by always dying,  
He nought enjoys, yet with his nothing glad,  
He still pursewes, where he sees nothing flying:  
His restless pangs, would make a world to wonder,  
Yet drowsy sleep, doth force him to a slumber.   

The penitent, that doth in anguish pain,  
He sinking swims, in gulfs of deep despair,  
In shade he si●…ts, his sun doth seldom shine,  
His drink is woe, his meat is clogged care:  
He hopes, he fears, and thus in hoping joys,  
Hope makes him glad, but fearing him annoys.   

To uncouth places, he doth always haunt,  
His pensine conscience, wills him there to wander,  
His tortured body, seems to feel more want,  
Then for his Hero, did love-drown'd Leander:  
No desert dark, nor pleasant lawn long holds him,  
But weary still, his ivy arms enfolds him.   

He sighing peeps, from earth unto the skies,  
Then woeful looks, from sky to earth again,  
From earth he came, in heaven his comfort lies,  
Thus on he walks, twixt mutual joy and pain:  
In dark●… night, nor yet in pleasing day,  
His life 〈◊〉 stands, at one contented stay.   

Well do I know, the tears and bitter moan,  
The penitent, doth utter with his wailing,  
For in that grief, I feel myself as one,  
That have a ship, within that Ocean sailing:  
And hope at length, with others that have store,  
To bring my ship, unto a happy shore.   

Thus did I lie, with sundry meditations,  
Thus were my thoughts, with divers changes led,  
Which muse were, my chiefest consolations,  
Till drowsy sleep, was hanging in my head:  
Which then began, my senses to surprise,  
Binding the dewy, closures of mine eyes.   

But slumber soft, no sooner had enclosed,  
The watery windows, of my woeful eyes,  
When as me thought, a champion bold opposed,  
My sleeping senses, with sad miseries:  
Whose warlike limbs, in iron rough were girt,  
The which descried, the courage of his heart.   

His burgonet, his vaunbrace and his shield,  
Were framed all, of fire tempered steel,  
With golden stars, amid a sable field,  
Whose massy substance, I did seem to feel▪  
Fixed was his beaver, void of plumy fan,  
Or quaint devise, upon his helm to stand.   

At which dread sight, my senses were amazed,  
Though drowsy winks, did rock them still asleep,  
Mine eyes did seem, to wake, and waking gazed,  
Yet heavy slumbers, closely did them keep:  
But then his voice, that seemed my heart to shake,  
Unbound his tongue, which then these words bespoke.   

Awake, awake, ye winged wits of Rome,  
Your flying fancies, wrapped in fiery air,  
Sing julius worth, Agricola entomb,  
Your spirits high, closed in mansions fair,  
Too long have slept, in loves delicious awe,  
Forgetting still, your kind Agricola.   

But where am I? or where do I declare,  
My woeful name, with prostrate invocations?  
What shall my sorrows, pierce an Albion's ear?  
And fright poor Padua with my exclamations?  
No: let me first, from fair Elizea fall,  
And choke the deep'st, infernal with my thrall.   

O no: let Rome, let Rome suck up mine anguish,  
Let Rome the mother, of my infant's years,  
Swell with my sighs, in which my soul still languish,  
Let Rome dissolve, herself with doleful tears:  
Let Roman Poets, sing great julius name,  
With blazing trophies, of eternal fame.   

But they are gone, from Rome's terrestial verges,  
whose muse admired, were crowned with quivering bay,  
O they are dead, that should have sung my dirges,  
With doleful langours, and distressful lays:  
He liu's in bliss, that sung the wars of Troy,  
Dead is the swayn's, that told of Phillis joy.   

Yet doth he live, eternised with glory,  
That sweetly sung renowned Scipio's wars,  
He lives that told aemilla's lasting story,  
Mixed with Antonius, and Octavius jars:  
A thousand more, do live, whose fames do ring,  
Yet none of dead, Agriola will sing.   

Wherefore sith I, of force am summoned here,  
The story of my, woeful days to tell,  
And Rome denies, to lend her listening ear,  
Attend Maluchus, and with sorrows swell.  
That Albion fair, may wail my tragedy,  
Which sleeping waking, thou shalt hear of me.   

When great Vespasian, wore the diadem,  
Of Rome's large Empire, and with conquering hand,  
Had won the walls, of fair jerusalem,  
Whose stately towers, were at his command▪  
Then Rome's sweet air, my youngling days did nuroish,  
Her nectar paps, my infancy did cherish.   

Where, whilst my years, were tender, soft and young,  
In learning's cradle, I was laid to sleep,  
My careful tutor, o'er me sweetly sung,  
And I some strains, of his did note and keep:  
Esteeming them, so highly in my power,  
That I did hug them, till my latest hour.   

Then did I frame, my tongue to courtly charms,  
And how to tread, the distance of a dance,  
And then I practsed, how to manage arms,  
To toss a pike, and how to wield a lance:  
Then with sound rackets, close within a wall,  
I nimbly learned, to toss a tennisse ball.   

To hunt a dear I sometime took delight,  
And sometime see, the lightfote hare to play,  
And sometime with, an eager fawlcons flight,  
I would consume, the weary long some day:  
A foamng steed, then would I learn to pace,  
And swallow-swift, run him a double race.   

Then in a ring, I would him gently troth,  
A full career, than did I learn to make,  
Then to curvet, then for to gallop hot,  
Then stopped him quick, that he new breath might take:  
Then on his crest, my flattering palm would slide,  
The more to cheer, his hot courageous pride.   

At Tilt and Tourney, than did I learn to ride,  
With clattering shocks, to break a sturdy lance,  
After the combat, then with portly pride,  
My foaming courser, would himself advance:  
Whose sumptuous carriage, did so much excel,  
That in each Tourney, I did bear the bell.   

For so I managed, that courageous beast,  
That he would vault, leap, curvet, plunge, and prance,  
With startling fury, fold his doubled crest,  
With lofty capers, stoop, stop, and lightly dance:  
With fiery rage, strike, stare, and trample proudly,  
Beating the stones, stamping and neighing loudly.   

Each ten days once, Olympus feast we held,  
Meeting in tilt, with complete armour bright,  
So that I knew, right well my spear to wield,  
And how t'encounter, with the hardiest Knight:  
And sometime hit, with counterbuff so sound,  
That he lay weltering on the sullen ground.   

Whilst the spectators, voices high did laud me,  
With hou'ring hats, and loud tumultuous cries,  
The trumpet shrill, did seem for to applaud me,  
Piercing the highest Zenith of the skies,  
Where might be heard, vnpa●…tiall voices say,  
Young julius won, the honour of the day.   

Then was I brought, to live in stately Court,  
Whereas I fed, of daintiest painted looks,  
For gallant dames, there daily did resort,  
To have their faces, read in steed of books,  
And soon I learned, with an amorous tongue,  
To read the lines, that were their books among.   

Fortune did so, advance my blooming days,  
That in the court, I gained a courtly place,  
And happy he, that most my name could raise,  
I sat so high, in great Vespasians grace:  
Each one unlearned, thought their learned skill,  
If not employed, my fantasy to fill.   

Agricola, was bruited through the land,  
No tong●… did move, but spoke of julius name,  
Each Ma●…list, that did control a band,  
Mutely admired, to hear of julius fame:  
For sweet discourse, revels, and chivalry,  
Who was renow'nd? Agricola even I.   

Walked I in Court, there Lamprils eyes descried me,  
If in the town, the Cit●…izens would know me,  
If mountains bore me, shepherd swains espied me,  
In country towns, each unto each would show me:  
And all would bend, with courtesies to me,  
Whilst I to them, would give like courtesy.   

What should I say? but that I should not say?  
All honour still, in Court attended on me,  
I still in great, Vespasians bosom lay,  
So graciously, did fortune smile upon me:  
And as I grew, each day to riper years,  
Each day renown, did place me with great peers.   

But then Bellona, with her hot alarms,  
Did summon me, unto the dint of war,  
Where I with troops, of worthy men at arms,  
Refuse no toil, to meet that bloody jar:  
Although great Neptunes, boiling empire lay,  
Between our land, and that rich golden bay.   

But strait we rigged, our huge sea rending ships,  
Whose spreading sails, with gentle Eurus aid,  
In Thetis fields, through glassy billows slips,  
No cross of Fortune, once our Navy staid:  
Until we came at that gold-shining town,  
That was the spring, of julius renown.   

Where unawares, we thrust with speed to land,  
And orderly, our valiant forces placed,  
With squadrons fair, upon that foreign stran●…,  
With glittering armour, all the plains defaced,  
But then our foes, like champions stout and bold,  
Came with their power, for to defend their hold.   

With hot bravadoes, and undaunted spirits,  
They marched along, from out their City gates,  
Ambitious all, advancement sought by merits,  
Committing life, and land, to froward fates:  
Nor we, nor they, no parley seemed to crave,  
Combat, and battle, each one desired to have.   

For raging fury, brooketh no delay,  
Army beards army, in the bloody field,  
Their trampling Gennets, fiery breathe neigh,  
Our lances bravely, their strong coursers wield:  
Ensigns displayed, loud drums and trumpets sound,  
Whose threatening terror, f●…om the clouds rebound.   

Now warlike Mars, some of thy valour send me,  
Tipto my weak tongue, with gads of tempered steel,  
Or thou brave Pallas, some of thy power lend me,  
That I may seem, to make the hea●…ers feel:  
What buffets, blows, limb parting-stroakes and scars,  
Are by stern champions, given in thy bloody jars.   

My tongue's too feeble, to decipher out,  
The raging fury, acted in martial trains,  
Yet will I show, the prowess of this rout,  
Which thus encountered, on the Southern plains:  
The valiant horsemen, first with swift carriers,  
In sundry splinters, shiverd their piercing spears.   

Then to their Carbins, then unto handy blows,  
Then violent shot, like to the Ocean's rage,  
With pell-mell-shocks, out off each army goes,  
Each man to win, his courage did engage:  
And storms of Bullets, like to winter's hail,  
Out off each squadron, did their foes assail.   

Then armours clattered, swords gave blow for blow,  
A hand, a hand, a foot, a foot did crave,  
Life, life desired, blood upon blood did flow,  
Each Curtleax digged, himself a gory grave:  
There did Bellona, like a Lion tear,  
Rough ireful gallants, on her tossing spear.   

The radiant sky, was darkened with the smoke,  
That issued from, the pattering Musket shot,  
Which slumbering fume, our soldiers seemed to choke,  
The day and battle, were so moultring hot:  
The thundering Canons, played on either side,  
Whose dreadful fury, legions did divide.   

And as the waves, driven with outrageous storms,  
Beateth the rampires of unmooving rocks,  
So did our Captains, labour with hot alarms,  
Them to repulse, with shiu'ring lances shocks:  
Here lies some dead, there other freshly bleeds,  
Trampling upon them, with unruly steeds.   

Abounding terror, tumbled in the field,  
Death stood appalled, at his own invention,  
Envy bedecked, herself in Rigours shield,  
Ruin and Horror, revelled with Dissension:  
Raging Revenge, sported in sanguine blood,  
The rauined earth, orecloyed belching stood.   

Harsh-dying tunes, sighing and grievous groan's,  
Wide gaping wounds, forced lamenting cries,  
Heart-goaring stabs, bursting of legs and bones,  
Life gushing tears, forced from bloody eyes:  
Men killed, unkilled, as dreadful war desired,  
Living and dying, while Parca's breath retired.   

Yet was the battle, in a balance found,  
Till I undaunted, cheered each feeble wing,  
Which done our valiant, forces gathered ground,  
Then courage follow, all the field did ring:  
Then did our foes, fear, faint, and flatly fly,  
Whilst we as victors, victory did cry.   

Then did our soldiers, tryplevalour take,  
The small calivers, than did discharge apace,  
The pikes and halberds, living limbs did shake,  
With fears pursuit, the targueters did chase:  
The horsemen swiftly, did their lances bend,  
The cannons swiftly, did their bullets send.   

Then in our plumes, Fortune did seem to play,  
For that our foes, lay weltering in their blood,  
Yielding to us, the honour of the day,  
The fair green field, all sanguined over stood:  
Here lie stout champions, pierced with deadly lances,  
There lay brave Captains, leading fatal dances.   

Here fell a body, there tumbles off a head,  
Here lay one maimed, there lay one slain out right,  
Here lay a soldier, groveling scarcely dead,  
There lay a leader, here lay a warlike knight:  
There a colonel, here a Gallant slain,  
Thus were they scattered, o'er the purple plain.   

And thus at length, we forced them to retire,  
Closing themselves, within their City walls,  
Which we inuiorned, round with sword and fire,  
Pelting their frontiers, with hot poud'red balls:  
Whence we might hear, clamorous shrieks & cries,  
Nipped with wailings, in the troubled skies.   

Then we began, their towering walls to scale,  
Taking the time, by his rough hairy top,  
While fickle Fortune, slily brewed their bale,  
That we the flower, of their delight might crop:  
Short tale to make, valour and high renown,  
Our conquering powers, placed in that warlike town.   

Whence many fled, to save their wretched lives,  
Many did humbly, kneel to kiss our feet,  
Virgins, and maids, infants and trembling wives,  
With prostrate tears, did all our forces greet:  
Where I proclaimed, with a trumpet meek,  
That all should live, that then their lives did seek.   

Who much did muse, to see so mild a foe,  
Thinking themselves, conquered not at all,  
Their sad applauses, gave us leave to know,  
The joy they took, in that their rising fall:  
And where before, w'had only won the town,  
Then of their hearts, we seemed to wear the crown.   

For they did bring, almost with free consent,  
Their wealthy store, into our hands to give,  
Their gold, and jewels, than they did present,  
Their loss of goods, they seemed not to grieve:  
For why? they knew, that we to them before,  
Had given a gem, worth all the wide world's st●…re.   

Two days we staid, within that City fair,  
Triumphing still, in victory and gain,  
With precious stones, and pearls beyond compare,  
We did enrich, our warlike troops and train:  
Our dancing ships, doubled their swelling prides,  
Such wealthy fraught, stuffed their bended sides.   

Whose lusty moulds, we rig'd and trimmed anew,  
With masts of silver, than they did adorn them,  
The old attire, ambitiously they threw,  
Amidst the slouds, as they had never worn them:  
Our yards were all, of Iu'ry, white as milk,  
Our tackle framed, of purest twisted silk.   

Our maine-sailes all, of glassy Satin saire,  
Our topsails were, most sumptuous to behold,  
Our spred-top gallants, trembling in the air,  
Were framed all, of glittering cloth of gold:  
Our dallying ensigns, wavering in the sky,  
Were all imb●…st, with rich imbrodery.   

While that our ships, thus in the port were trimming,  
I called our troops, into their Senate hall,  
Whereas I made, no dross nor pure skimming,  
But with content, I did content them all:  
None parted with, a discontented heart,  
For why I gave, each man his full desert.   

All which complete, a pleasant gale of wind,  
Did gently whisper, o'er our Navies Poop,  
As though 't'had known, w'had finished up our mind,  
So sweet a breath, made our top gallant stoop:  
Which caused us, lest that the wind should fails,  
Our Anchors weigh, and hoist our silken sails.   

Then of the town, our last farewell we took,  
With thundering noise, that seemed t'affright the air,  
Whilst Ladies from, the shores on us did look,  
With wo-swolne eyes, that we had left them there:  
They shook their hands, and shed tears for our sake,  
In hope for them, our ships we would turn back.   

Their sighs they sent, over the billows rough,  
Brought to our ships, with Zephyrus gentle hisses,  
And when they saw, we knew it well enough,  
With balmy breath, they blew to us their kisses:  
Their gloves they took, and in the water fling them,  
Hoping the tide, unto our ships would bring them.   

But Aeolus which, our friend did still remain,  
Hasted our ships, from off that foreign coast,  
Fearing lest that, we should turn back again,  
And so our pains, were altogether lost:  
For why? he knew, their Syren-tempting-songs,  
Might well pretend, unto our further wrongs.   

Wherefore no leave, he gave us to dispense,  
But lively gales, he whisled in our shrouds,  
So that he soon, conveyed our Navy thence,  
Rolling amidst, the all untamed floods:  
And by the power, of his great swaying hand,  
weare driven from ken, of that delightful land.   

Then were we tossed, in Neptune's tenniss court,  
Whereas the waves, did rackets seem to take,  
To beat and bandy, was their only sport,  
Until a set game, they agreed to make:  
Yet like young boys, they did dallying play,  
Which toss new bales, for that they are so gay.   

For our fair ships, swollen the seas with pride,  
When they began, to dance in Tethis lap,  
But having reins, within her verge to ride,  
The surges seemed, their boisterous hands to clap:  
Triton did sound, in most harmonious wise,  
Whilst Neptune gazed, on our wealthy prize.   

Who seemed to call, Apollo from his chair,  
Nephew (saith he) know you this portly fleet,  
Which seems to come, from out the Phrygian air,  
Where we with store, and treasure once did meet,  
The firm foundation, of fair Troy to lay:  
The which had flourished, till this present day,   

Had these Grecians, which as I suppose,  
Falsely betrayed, that unremoving town,  
Since which time they, themselves right well might lose,  
In watery deserts, under my spacious crown:  
But if I knew, that these were surely they,  
I would o'erwhelm them, in the brinish sea.   

At whose stern words, Apollo seemed to speak:  
No gentle Nephew, mitigate your ire,  
These are our friends, the which no peace will break,  
These men have been, to fetch Promethean fire:  
These men are they, that travels for our good,  
Who are descended, from the Trojan blood.   

Then use them gently, as our chiefest friends,  
And through your kingdoms safety them conduct,  
See all the gulfs, that you to them do cleanse,  
So that their fleet, to Scylla be not sucked:  
For if their land, they safely do attain,  
They shall have fame, but we shall have the gain.   

Then Neptune seemed, to calm his rugged brow,  
Commanding Triton, all his powers to call,  
(While that our Themes, the frothy brine did plow)  
He held a parley, in his spacious hall:  
All stormy winds, he chaste from out his land,  
Only fair Zephyr, at his beck did stand.   

Who sent fresh gales, as we on billows sailed,  
Neptune himself, did wait upon our fleet,  
And when the wind, feared displeasure quailed,  
Then would he help us, with a tide most sweet:  
And when proud Zephyr, roughly seemed to blow,  
He would command him, he should be more slow.   

Thus did the great, commander of the Sea,  
Conduct our Navy, through his empire wide,  
Until at length, upon a calmy day,  
Our native land, we joyfully espied:  
Whose lovely banks, seemed with sugared charms,  
To call our fleet, into her folding arms.   

Then did we hasten, to those happy shores,  
Mounted upon, the wings of swift desire,  
Our sails did serve, for labouring arms and oars,  
To gain the port, to which we did aspire:  
And Aeolus, no breath did us deny,  
But caused our ships, like Pegasus to fly.   

Until we came, near to the long wished strand,  
On whose fair banks, a thousand did attend,  
To welcome us, unto that happy Land,  
For of their joys, there seemed to be no end:  
With music loud, with drums & trumpets sound,  
They drew our ships, unto that pleasant ground.   

Each soldier weak, the which the waves did check,  
And half dead filled, the body of each ship,  
Did then revive, and walk upon their deck.  
Clapping their hands, and seemed for joy to skip:  
In that great Neptune, lead us all that while,  
And set us safe, upon our native Isle.   

Who then did seem, with all his frothy train,  
On Dolphin's backs, to mount their watery limbs,  
And smile The●…is, left us on the plain,  
And with that Monarch, thence together swims:  
Commanding Triton, for to sound a call,  
To hold a counsel, in Charibdies' hall.   

While we did leave, our huge sea-cutting fleet,  
Landing our troops, Olimpikly on shore,  
Whereas whole legions, kindly did us meet,  
We being armed, with gold and silver store:  
For joy whereof, the hills and dales did sound,  
The rocks and rivers, did with noise rebound.   

Our well fraught navy, than began to fet,  
Their thundering music, to report their treasure,  
And with high strains, their instruments to set,  
With heart's delight, whilst we did dance with pleasure:  
Which roaring consort, such recording plies,  
That their thick breath, dimmed the crystal skies.   

There were we brought, to that seabeaten town,  
Inuiorned, with warlike harmony,  
And all their voices, seemed at once to crown,  
Agricola, with fame and chivalry:  
The rattling music, quaverd amids the throng,  
Th'hot calivers, warbled the undersong.   

Whilst I in stead, of pattering bullets threw,  
Silver and gold, to pierce my country men,  
To which hot skirmish, there so many drew,  
That I would pause, and then begin again:  
Till night drew on, thus did I gild their streets,  
With gain of war, silver and foreign sweets.   

But Phlegon, Pyrous, Aeous and Aethon proud,  
Amids the air, hastened with fiery wings,  
To bea e Apollo, toward the Ocean flood,  
And as a present, him to Iber brings:  
Where he with banquets, reveled out the night,  
V●… Aurora, brought the morning light.   

When night was come, we took our quiet rest,  
Sleeping secure, void of suspect or wrong,  
Such harmless thoughts, harboured in each breast,  
That we were fast, until the Leverucke song:  
Who in the air, with chirpings seemed to say,  
Awake, behold, see the delightsome day.   

For Menmons' mother, then to world had brought,  
So fair a show, of crimson speckled light,  
All spangled ore, as if with Rubies wrought,  
The which did banish, black Cimmerian night:  
And glittering Phoebus, then began to rise,  
Gracing the earth, from out the azure skies.   

Thus having safely, taken sweet repose,  
And that Apollo, to the lists was come,  
From out our shee●…s, with speed we then arose,  
Leaving the port, with sound of trump and drum:  
And then we took, our journey toward the court,  
Whereas our welcome, was in princely sort.   

For all the peers flocking about me came,  
With seeming gladness of my safe return,  
Applaudng still, my then too happy name,  
As though with joy, their inward hearts did burn:  
Then great Vespatiun, to account did call me,  
To know what chance, in Mars school did befall me.   

Where I discoursed, how I had spent my time,  
How I took ship, and how I passed the floods,  
How I did land, under that foreign clime,  
And how with force, our enemy's withstood's:  
How with great pain, their troops we did beat down  
And how at length, we won that maiden town.   

How many fled, to save their loathed lives,  
How many at, our weapons points did fall,  
How I did pity, infants, maids and wives,  
And how I gave, mercy unto them all:  
How they themselves, their jewels to us brought,  
And how with store, our lusty ships we fraught.   

Short tale to make, I nothing did delay,  
But told him all, how that we went and came,  
Even from the first, until that present day,  
Till he himself, did give me triple fame:  
And honours high, upon my head he set,  
But some repined, at those my titles great.   

But then he took, me by this iron hand,  
julius (quoth he) mount, mount in wars desire,  
For now I'll send, thee with a puissant band,  
Where like a prince, thou shalt by fame aspire:  
To be enrolled, within a warlike story,  
With trophies of, eternal praise and glory.   

I'll make thee, Gen'ral of as great a train,  
As ere was copt, under the boundless sky,  
Who as they march, shall hide each hill and plain,  
And drink at once, the foaming Ocean dry:  
No ships shall need, to waft them o'er the sea,  
For they shall land it, in one summers day.   

Not Xerxes' army, shall with them compare,  
So many legions, under thee shall go,  
The sight whereof, shall make thy adverse fear,  
When thou dost come, t'encounter with thy fo:  
I'll rain down gold, still for thy soldiers pay,  
Then gentle julius, stay not, hast away.   

This promise urged me, once again to go,  
To try my fortune, in Bellona's school,  
Soon was prepared, a gallant glittering show,  
Whereas did want, no kind of warlike tool:  
There were they placed, each man in his degree,  
And I proclaimed, their General to be.   

Then trumpets shrill, sounded aloud for joy,  
And thundering drums, filled the ai●…e with noise,  
The soldi●…rs all, each man and st●…rdy boy,  
Hovered their hearts, with an appla●…sing voice:  
Ta●…ing our leave, than did we ma●…ch a●…ong,  
Arriving safe, in (g●…eat) Brittany st●…ong.   

In which fair soil, the Britain's bold did rain,  
Th'undaunted Scotch men, and the Scythians wild,  
The Cornish crew, and Caledonian train,  
The naked Silures, and the Pictians wild:  
Who all at once, provided skilless powers,  
To drive our forces, from their mean built towers.   

For men like Satir's, clad in rustic tire,  
Half weapon less, with braying cries and calls,  
To meet our daring, army did aspire,  
Praying upon us, like fierce Cannibals:  
There might be heard, the hideous lumbring swasher,  
Unequally, consorting with the clasher.   

There might be heard, the hollow wind baged droan's.  
With direful roaring. and the puffing piper,  
There might be heard, harsh tunes with clattering bones,  
The loud shrill drummer, and the jarring fifer.  
Which musics discord, seemed a consort right,  
To courage up, our foes unmanaged might.   

Whose habits mean, did harbour haulty hardness,  
Their stomachs stout, though skilless made them fearless  
Their prowess doubtless, bred their own vntow'rdnesse  
Their desperate venturs, show'd their hearts were peerless:  
Their valours swordlesse, made them still regardless,  
Their blows were harmless, & their bodies wardlesse.   

Their weapons were of, I beam, witch, and thorn,  
Some had a skein, and some a dart and durke,  
Some few had bows, and arrows piled with horn,  
And privy poniard, in some sleeves did lurk:  
Some handle targes, some pikes with points new burned,  
Some still threw stones, & some poor chariots turned.   

Some weelded spears, and shields of Elm full tough,  
Some hare brained roisters rid on garish steeds,  
Some two hand swords, did use of iron rough,  
Whose awkward powers, acted most worthy deeds:  
For why they thought, a man was never dead.  
Till by some means, they had cut off his head.   

Yet dav by day, on bogs and brays we met,  
One while they us, then strait we them would chase,  
They upon us, we upon them would set,  
Such was the rest, we took within that place:  
Thus did we feed, upon the bread of war,  
Painting our lines, with many bloody scar.   

Full thrice three years, in Britain I remained,  
From whence my fame, to stately Room did fly,  
But than Vespasian, was by death detained,  
And mighty Titus, in that time did die:  
Then grew my woes, than did my sorrows spring,  
Then, then did bloom, my fatal ruining.   

For then Domitian, tyrantlike did sway,  
The royal mace, and diadem of Rome,  
Who undescried, plots did slily lay,  
To bring poor julius, to his final doom.  
And wrest my life, from me by fowl deceit,  
For that my name, did daily grow so great.   

All means he sought, t'augment my worth and fame.  
When rusty envy, gnawed his can kered heart,  
His cunning lips, did seem to raise my name,  
But still he sought, my death with slight and art:  
Even so Vl●…sses, flattered in the court,  
While luckless Ajax, toiled with warlike port.   

Yet I was worse, than Telamon's poor son,  
For he was present, with his wily foe,  
He knew his slights, long ere the spite was done,  
But julius I, did neither see nor know:  
His causeless envy, I did never taste,  
How he chased me, as I the Britain's chased.   

He me pursued, and I my foreign foes,  
Hi●… strokes were slight, but I rough payment gave,  
He fought with wiles, I fought with rugged blows,  
He sought my wrack, I sought his life to save:  
He wrought my bane, I wrought, to raise his fame,  
He won the prize, I lost the set and game.   

But all so fitted, to my seeming good,  
That no misdeeming, in my heart did rest,  
Although he daily, thirsted for my blood,  
No such opinion, lodged in my breast:  
For then from Britain, he did send for me,  
And I of Syria, should Lieutenant be.   

His juggling letters, had such lofty strains,  
That I was all, enchanted with his charms,  
I must to Rome, and leave my wont trains,  
To cope with greater, dignities at arms:  
Wherefore I took, my leave and last adieu,  
Of all my troops, great Syria to view.   

But when I came, unto the Roman Court,  
Whose glorious name, did ring throughout the world,  
W●…nder did seem, about me to resort,  
F●… black indite ●…ents, on my head were hurled:  
A●… I poor I, as many tongues could tell,  
●…relong was sent, unto the citadel.   

And thrice accursed, by destiny and fate,  
Was then proclaimed, a traitor for to be,  
Against the Prince, the Counsel and the state,  
The which did not, with my deserts agree:  
Yet did Ulysses, Palamede so hate,  
That with smooth words, he did cut off his pate.   

Alas, alas, the time doth swiftly run,  
For now I hear, night's trumpeters shrill noises,  
Who hastens me, my story to have done,  
O stay a while, and I'll obey your voices:  
For being closed, within that towering wall,  
I heard no talk, but of my death and fall.   

And on a day, before Aurora sprung,  
To tell the world, that Phoebus' fair was coming,  
I was invited, with a mour●…ing tongue,  
Unto a feast, provided with great cunning:  
Where I should feed, on such delicious cates,  
As was prepared, for me and such like states.   

I could not choose, but needs I must consent,  
To go and see, that sweet and dainty fare,  
Although I knew, that feast with full intent,  
Was so ordained, to end my worldly care:  
Yet I as willing, as their hearts could wish,  
Did view, and that, is banquets chiefest dish.   

And when I came, unto that spacious hall,  
There did I see, my diet and my cheer,  
My Carver then, unto me I did call,  
Saying these words, carve, friend, and do not fear:  
Then did he cut, and I did eat such store,  
That after then, I never did eat more.   

Then this memorial, of my endless soul,  
Which had been locked, within my body long,  
Was registered, in a celestial roll,  
And placed in joy, whilst Angels sweetly sung:  
Where troops divine, eternally shall reign,  
Keeping their Court, upon Elysian plain.   

But worldling know, to thee I do not come,  
To tell thee how, I lived in my life,  
Nor for to tell, this story all and some,  
Which was my end, my death, and fatal strife:  
A thousand heads, more of my state hath known,  
Then in this story, I to thee have shown.   

It were a pride, for me to tell thee this,  
O●… tell thee how, I dwell in Paradise,  
No, no, I come, to lead thee unto bliss,  
Then hear my words, note them, and be precise:  
First honour God, then with a loving heart,  
Honour thy Prince, for so it is thy part.   

Defraud no man, hurt not the innocent,  
Hate pride, live chaste, backbite not with thy tongue,  
Swear not in vain, to vengeance be not bend,  
Murder no man, nor do no poor man wrong:  
Bear no false witness, hoard no gold in store,  
While Orphans weak, starve at thy cursed door.   

The Saboth keep, honour thy parents dear,  
Steal no man's wealth, thy enemies forgive,  
Shun sloth as sin, and drunkenness forbear,  
Glut no thyself, st●…ll poverty relieve:  
Favour thy friend, love thy true servant well,  
This done, thy fame, for ever shall excel.   

And if that long, thou dost desire to live,  
Beware of such, as brought me to my end,  
For they are men, that cunning words will give,  
Although thy foe, they will profess thy friends:  
And will not let, to swear, and forswear too,  
Thy wealth to gain, though it doth thee undo.   

But stay: me thinks I see the Eurian lights,  
Budding like Roses, in the morning's brows,  
The drowsy vapours, takes their sable flyghts,  
And bright Aurora, doth herself unhouse:  
The glow-worm di●…feares the'approaching sun,  
Wherefore farewell, for I to speak have done.    

Thus did he leave, and thus the Hermit left,  
with tears distilling, and with sighs abounding,  
His silent muteness, show'd his joys bereft,  
Yet night did force me, leave him plaints resounding:  
And thus I rest, his story to descry,  
For that black night, hath now enclosed the sky.   

Yet when Apollo, shall rechase again,  
The Vesper vaile●…, the earth hath clouded over,  
If that your steps, do guide you to this plain,  
The accident, to you I will discover:  
Until which time, yourself I do commend,  
To be prescrived, by Alls all guiding friend.   

The radiant torch, long since had burning left,  
And Cynthia pale, keeping a wanton vain,  
Trimmed herself, like to a lover deft,  
Casting her glimpses, towared fair Latmos plain:  
Which lovely object, caused her dazzling eyes,  
With triple brightness, to enrich the skies.   

Wherefore I left, the lovely aged man,  
Taking my leave, my bed I made my bliss,  
But in the morn, I did return again,  
Whereas I heard, the Hermit's life and his,  
Which now my pen, grown dull denies t●…dite,  
Taking fresh breath, in fresher lines to write.   
FINIS.